


so i made lemonade

by peepasoo



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Additional Characters, Angst, Eliza POV, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Infelidty, Marriage, lemonade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10714383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peepasoo/pseuds/peepasoo
Summary: "the past, and the future merge to meet us here. what luck. what a fucking curse."Eliza, in the wake of the affair(lemonade inspired)





	so i made lemonade

**Author's Note:**

> it's the one year anniversary of lemonade and I have had this in my docs for nearly that long. 
> 
> I wanted to post this in honor of the anniversary but it won't be continued on here for a while bc im still in the middle of enough.   
> this work is very in depth of Eliza's emotions and mindset during and after the affair, it will be a little slow going, I care about this one very much. 
> 
> anyway here we are, I feel a little nervous but ahhhh whatever

She hadn't known from the start, and looking back that was the part Eliza hated the most. The part when she finally figured it out and she had to wonder just how long it had been happening. The part where she called into question her own mind for not knowing him well enough, not catching it fast enough. The part where she may have subconsciously let it slide because she didn’t know any better, because she didn’t consider that he was actually capable of this. The part where she put every moment of their entire lives together under the microscope to figure out exactly when he stopped being exclusively _her’s_.

It was a Tuesday when it all came crashing into her like a freight train. (Why is it that the most earth shattering realizations come on such normal days?)

She was in Albany with their family, on the trip he refused to go on. (was that girl why he refused? she still didn't know it all) It had been a normal day so far, the kids all dead asleep by 8 after a full day of swimming and laughter, her sisters and Church turning in not much later, and Eliza was on her nightly phone call with Alexander.

“I swear our little monsters are going to be the death of me.” she says heaving out a long breath, laying back on the bed

He laughs, “Well, have you met them? It's kind of a given that they'll be that way for a while.”

“Something I fully blame you for, by the way. So how's the plan going?” she asks

“Um, pretty good so far. It’s just-” he starts

“What?”

“Madison and Jefferson, being their dickbag selves.” he says exhausted

She chuckles, “I’ll never understand what happened with Madison. I mean he was like your best friend and now you can't even stand to look him in the eye.”

“I'll tell you what happened, Jefferson rode in on his fucking broomstick and snatched him away from me.” he says bitterly

“Oh God, you sound like James when Will steals his toys” she rubs her temples, exhausted

“Well, like you said, they get it from somewhere.” he reasons

(right here is when it happens, when the pieces fall into place and it all starts to fall apart, when a normal Tuesday on vacation becomes the beginning of the end.)

She hears the doorbell in the background.

“Who is that?” she asks out of her knee-jerk reaction

“Oh, I- uh ordered take out from that place around the corner from our old place. You know, the one that you always swore would make us sick?” he says, if she didn't know him better she would think he is completely serious.

But Eliza knew him better, and she can nearly taste his lies.

“Right, yeah I know that one. Well, don't stay up too late okay?” she says, trying to hide her disbelief

“You got it, love you.”

“Love you.” he hangs up as soon as the last syllable leaves her mouth

This next thing is something Eliza kind of hates him for:  
she hates him for ever giving her a reason to actually look up the hours of that restaurant on the corner, for ever giving her an inkling of a reason to doubt his words.

Regardless, she looked it up. It closed 2 hours ago.

(here comes the freight train.)

_Surely there are reasonable explanations for this, right?_ , the do-no-harm, logical, hopeful voice in her head said

Maybe he’s just having a colleague over to work and he didn't want her to get worried about him being up late. (not likely and still troublesome but, not the worst thing)

Maybe the restaurant changed its hours and just haven't updated the website. (less likely, still probable)

Maybe he’s doing something illegal, some backroom deal as a last ditch to get his plan through Congress. Those sorts of things happen all the time, a lifetime in New York has taught her that much. (wasn’t it terrible she almost wished he was doing something illegal?)

_Or maybe it is your worst fear._ the terrible, truthful, instinctual voice in her head said

Maybe there was a woman or man or anyone who _wasn't her_ on the other side of that door waiting to keep him company, through his long, tense night.

She tries to let it go. She really _really_ does. Then all these other pieces come flying to her mind.

That time he asked her not to call after 10, because he said he didn't want to keep her up. (Looking at the clock, she knew why he asked that of her now.)

Or that time they skyped ( _with their kids there_ ) and she thought she saw the slightest movement behind him in the covers.

And countless other instances this summer he just hadn't been _Alexander_.

And she had only been a part from him for a few weeks and he has already created this new world, with walls she didn’t know how to open. Or maybe, the walls had been there the whole time, and the moment when she thought he had let her in, he really was just opening a window, fooling her into believing she’d been granted access.

_Alexander would never do that, he would never trick me, he loves me_. She reminds herself, but as soon as she thinks it, doubt fills her mind again.

If what she thought about the walls was true, did she really even know him at all? Or is the Alexander she knows some version of himself he spun for her, a spectre, a projection, a _lie_.

Eliza feels crazy, like she’s pressing her ear to the wall trying to make out whatever was happening on the other side, piecing together broken fragments of sentences she picked up in an effort to make any kind of semblance of sense.

(that's the thing about listening through walls though, no matter how well you know the person’s voice, if the wall is thick enough, their voice can sound like a different language)

A stupid, vindictive part of herself hopes -no, _prays_ \- he notices her suspicion. She wants him to notice her on the other side of that wall, prays he’ll open the door and see her wondering, whispering to herself. She would look at him and say, _Look! Look, at what I am doing for love! Look at how you are making me crazy!_ Maybe then he’ll finally notice her, when she is running herself rampant in circles for him.

She is staring at the fan, blades making dizzying circles _around and around and around and around and-_

Eliza shuts her eyes tight and tries to send him a message across hundreds of miles, through the wall she was pressing her ear to, a cry for help, a desperate plea, something she isn’t sure he’ll even hear:

_What are you doing, Alexander?_

**Author's Note:**

> yay!! I really love lemonade, it's a beautiful, important piece of art I want to do it justice. 
> 
> bug me on peepasoo on tumblr 
> 
> comment/kudos/bookmark to save my sanity


End file.
